Thirty
by Jedi Takeru
Summary: Jason's feeling old. An MMPR 16th anniversary tribute. One-shot.


Thirty  
An MMPR 16th anniversary fic

Jason Lee Scott was feeling old. He sighed, kicking up a haze of dust as he walked up the driveway of an old friend, Zachary Taylor.

Well, maybe an old friend. Hopefully. Jason didn't know exactly how to classify their relationship anymore. After the peace conference in Switzerland, they and Trini had stayed friends. But when Zordon died…well. That'd done it. Somehow or other they'd all drifted apart.

Flash forward to September 11, 2001. Why couldn't Trini have been sick that day, have had her interview scheduled for the following week, _something_ instead of dying?

It hadn't hit him until then. Yes, they were Power Rangers; yes, they were the only members of the original team left that still had their first powers, thanks to Zordon copying them when Rocky, Adam, and Aisha had showed up; yes, they were all very skilled and very lucky. But one of their number had finally fallen, which meant that they were also… vulnerable. Jason didn't like feeling vulnerable.

He rang the doorbell, sighing again and sticking his hands into his pockets. Why had he come here? What was the big deal? He was turning thirty in less than twenty-four hours. So what? He sighed for a third time. Round and round it went, coming full circle. He was feeling vulnerable again—vulnerable to the one enemy he couldn't defeat: time.

In this battle, there was no such thing as strength in numbers. But he'd heard that misery loved company. Maybe that was because company relieved misery? He hoped so.

A voice sounded from inside. He couldn't quite understand it through the thick wooden door, but he thought it sounded something like "Hold on!" He heard footfalls. A crash. Swearing. Something heavy, probably a box, being kicked aside.

The door opened, and Zack's face glowed with happiness.

"Jason! Jason, my man! How you been?"

"I've been great," said Jason, not sounding as though this were even halfway true. Noticing this, Zack gave him a look, one that said _Yeah…_sure_…_

"C'mon, man—we've saved each other's lives too often. I mean it, how've you been?"

Jason sighed yet again. "Honestly?"

"I'd prefer that, yeah."

Another sigh. "Damn it, bro…I'm feelin' old."

Zack paused, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "Old? You? Me? Naw, man, we _are_ the same age, right, roughly?" Another pause, this time on the former Red Ranger's part. "Hello? Jason? You're not an old man yet—I mean, not unless you got some miracle youth formula and had some desire to relive High School…"

A smile graced the face of the former leader. "No, I guess not. I guess it's just gettin' to me."

"'It' being what, exactly?"

A fifth and final sigh. "You know. That day at Ernie's, just before the start of Freshman year." He shook his head, smiling in remembrance. "I was the oldest—Fifteen with a December birthday. And now the new kids are younger than that. Sure, there was that mission a couple of years ago to stop Serpenterra, and yes, there have been a few times before and since then when I've whipped out my morpher to save an old lady or something, but the fact is our time's come and gone."

Zack raised another eyebrow. "You're telling me you actually miss having to run out of the theater in the middle of a date?"

A grin. "Bro, you know that was all you. I was never that unlucky."

"What about homework until after midnight because we were busy saving the planet?"

"Now _that_ was all of us."

"No kiddin'. What about lying to your parents whenever you got your ass kicked? There're only so many times you can 'fall while skateboarding.'"

"What's your point?"

"My point is that there's a reason new kids are doin' it now—there's only so long you can put up with stuff like that. If _we_ were doin' it now, we'd all be unemployed. How many times you think anyone's boss would accept 'family complications,' huh? Nobody can live like that forever." Jason started to respond, but Zack kept going. "And as for your age? I got a little secret for ya."

"I'm all ears, man."

"There's nothin' you can do about that except don't let it stop you from living. That'd be somethin' to really get upset about."

Jason gave a grudging nod and the barest hint of a smile. Point made.

"Look, Jason, my Grandma sent over a thing of her homemade hot chocolate for Christmas and I got the TV set up in the den tuned to the Celtics versus the Lakers." No response. "And by the way?"

"Yeah?"

"It's freezing out here! I can't keep the door open forever! You want that hot chocolate or not?"

"Sounds good."


End file.
